


Keep On Haunting Me

by abstractthinking



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Comfort/Angst, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Kinda, Late Night Conversations, Past Character Death, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony Blames Himself, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Wanda Blames Herself, Wanda Needs a Hug, Wanda's a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6423268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractthinking/pseuds/abstractthinking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda Maximoff's nights have been filled with sleepless hopes of finding resolution at the bottom of a bottle, having been hollow and carved out since the day bullets tore through her brother. One night she gets company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep On Haunting Me

**Author's Note:**

> I just really needed this conversation to happen between them okay

It was very late in the Avengers tower when bare petite feet pattered across the floor. Everyone was either in bed or not in the tower at the moment; even the nightowls of the team had collapsed into bed a while ago. Streaks of red reflected in the pasty walls of the halls as a robe swished behind them, whispering. They found themselves in the communal lounge, the room dimly lit with the only lights being behind the bar and the roaring city outside panels of glass. 

 

Silent save for the soft murmurs of her clothes, Wanda Maximoff trailed her way to behind the bar. She reached underneath the countertop, moved aside the half-drank bottle of Laphroaig scotch, and pulled down the fake board that held a secret bottle for herself, some Russian brand she had found a liking to when she was a teenager. She was startled with a memory of her and Pietro sneaking it out of her father’s cabinet when they were children, hoping to get a taste of it after seeing their father drink it so often. It had been ended early with a scolding from their parents and a shooing to bed early- though her and her brother didn’t go to sleep until hours later, trying to quiet their voices and stifle their giggles.

 

_ Pietro… _

 

Scowling, angry that she had let her mind wander, Wanda popped off the top aggressively and took a long swig from it, her eyes falling shut. She let the fiery liquid slip down her throat slowly, savoring the feeling as it went further down into her body. She let out a soft sigh of contentment, opening her eyes again as she grabbed a glass this time, pouring herself a drink. 

 

She walked blandly out from behind the bar, the bottle swinging in one hand as she sipped from her glass with the other, as she made her way further into the room. She made her way up the stairs, then trailed through more halls and going up more stairs. She halted when she found a perfectly dark, empty room- though it look more like an enlarged hallway, careening off from the main one into a separate area. One wall was made of entirely windows, showing the city below them, and it made her wonder if it was a space for sightseeing. 

 

Wanda shuffled leisurely over to it, eyes fluttering as she took in the lights, the screams of cars, the little dots that made up people and things. She gradually let herself fall into a sitting position in the corner, giving her a view of most everything the window had to offer. She swung back the last of her glass, pouring herself another, and then another, sitting in silence as she let the warmth sit with her. She began to feel lighter after her fourth, and by her sixth, her vision blurred. She knew that because of her superior biology she could handle much more alcohol than a normal human, but she still liked to push her limit, see how far she could tease the edge without falling off. Now, with this chasm that used to fill her heart, she didn’t care if she fell or not. She knew he wouldn’t approve, he’d look down at her with that slight pout of his lips in that disapproving way, eyebrows furrowed but eyes wide with sorrow, his light voice saying,  _ now, silly girl, don’t you think that’s enough? _

 

A shattering of glass destroyed the silence she had blanketed herself with, and she looked down to found her now-empty glass into a hundred pieces, scarlet twisting around her hands and highlighting her eyes. She felt no anger, just annoyance. 

 

“You have to pay for that.”

 

An aloof voice knocked her out of her reverie thoroughly this time. Her head whirled to the dark silhouette leaning against the wall across from her. Her eyes adjusted a bit, and she saw with slight irritation that it was the building’s owner.

 

A huff escaped her mouth, and for a second she thought about flinging the broken glass at him in retaliation for ruining her peace, but it was gone a moment after. 

 

“You can put it on my tab.” She said dryly, the alcohol and the lack of use making her voice huskier and her accent stronger than before. She was exhausted and dizzy, and had little patience to deal with the egotistical billionaire. 

 

“Oh, she gets funny when she’s hammered. Say, do you do this every night? Because you know, the first step is admitting you have a problem-”

 

“What do you want, Stark?” Wanda demanded, her voice still quiet but her tone bitter. Stark came further into the room, shrugging. His features became more pronounced as he grew closer, his face now visible in the dim light. 

 

“Was out and about and saw you going through here, gonna ask if you wanted company, or perhaps, another bottle. Was that full when you started, because damn, I should make you do drinking competitions for money.”

 

“ _ No _ , I don’t want any company.” She snapped at him, clutching the bottle in her hand tight enough to make her knuckles go white. She tried to calm, knowing that she’d probably break that too in a minute.

 

Stark was quiet for a moment before sitting down across from her with a exhale. Wanda raised her eyebrows at him, her exasperation apparent in her features.

 

“You really don’t know the meaning of the word no, do you?” She snarked.

 

Again, he shrugged, his eyes analyzing her and making her more annoyed. Wanda just shook her head minutely, looking out towards the city again to avoid looking at him. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes, Wanda trying to ignore him and Stark doing his best to get her attention with prolonged staring.

 

Eventually she cracked.

 

“What are you even doing here, Stark? Don’t you have better things to do?” She seethed.

 

For the third time of the night, he shrugged. “Probably. But like I said, I saw you and thought you might want some company.”

 

“I told you-”

 

“I know what you told me, but what I’m seeing, sweetheart, is telling me something else.”

 

Wanda quieted at that, her lips pursing slightly. Again, she looked out the window to avoid looking at him. Stark huffed lightly, almost sounding like a scoff.

 

“Trust me, I know devastation when I see it. You’re not the only one on this team who has felt like they’ve lost everything.”

 

Surprised at his sudden openness, Wanda remained silent, her eyes trailing over to his again. Swallowing, she brought the bottle to her lips again and took a big gulp. She had been afraid at one point that if someone had found her like this, she would be judged and ridiculed. However, in an ironic twist of fate, the person she had imagined being the ringleader for that is the exact one who had found her, and he wasn’t looking at her like that at all. If anything he was staring at her like… like he was reflecting. Seeing the past through this mirror that Wanda had provided for him. 

 

More quietness and another drink passed before she spoke.

 

“I’m empty. I’m empty inside. He was the only thing I had. My everything, my-my world. And he’s just… gone,” her voice went from hollow to unsteady as tears filled her eyes. Her grip on the bottle returned. “I  _ have _ lost everything. I have no home, no family, nothing. And it’s my fault he’s gone.”

 

Her breath hitched and a fist clenched over her mouth as she tried to control herself, stop before she fell apart at the seams again. She was  _ not  _ going to break down in front of anyone, let alone  _ Tony Stark.  _ After a moment, her breathing slowed and she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks. 

 

Stark just sat in silence, watching and listening intently.  _ God, she’s just a kid. _ And yet, Tony knew  _ exactly _ what was going through her head. Knew exactly how the soaring pain was ripping through her, how she felt that the only relief she could have in the cold world is in a bottle because not even  _ sleep  _ could provide an escape for her. Tony knew this and more, because he  _ lived _ it. Is  _ still  _ living it. And here he is, a messy, broken shell of a man who was just feeling like he was getting on his feet for the _ first time ever _ until he killed thousands and almost destroyed the planet. 

 

More silence trickled on until Tony broke it, his voice softer than she’s ever heard. “It’s not your fault, what happened.”

 

Wanda looked up at him, something indescribable in her eyes. She searched them with her own, and he had a feeling that her mind was reaching out to his, trailing along the surface to see what he was thinking and whether or not he was lying. 

 

“How could it not be?” Her voice croaked and reached out to him, and the sound of it wrapped around his heart and made it crumble. 

 

He gave her a humorless, dry smile. “I was the one who created a robot bent on destruction.”

 

“I drove you to it.” She replied softly. It grew quiet once more between them, Wanda taking another sip from the bottle.

 

“Maybe,” he started, then stopped. Licked his lips, looked away. “Maybe it’s both our faults. Maybe Ultron is the creation of the both of us. But… but what happened to Pietro was because of his choice to protect Barton and that kid. He would’ve done it in any situation. I think you know that.”

 

Wanda was slightly surprised by his confession. Most of her argued against him, whispering in her ear  _ it’s your fault you did this you killed him _ , but a tiny, very very deep part of her could bring herself to agree with him. She turned away from him, trying to hold onto that part of her for dear life, clutching it close to her and trying to stretch it and make it grow. 

 

“Maybe.” She settled on, her voice so quiet he barely heard her. Her eyes were trained on the city again, watching the lights twinkle and trying to imagine they were the stars. 

 

No more words were said for quite some time, but this time the quiet wasn’t as strained. The two watched as the city bustled on, even though it was the dead of night. Wanda’s drinking became less frequent as her eyes grew heavier, and Tony (when had she started calling him that?) seemed to look tired but not overly so.

 

“I’m sorry.” Tony said, his voice soft and sincere. Wanda looked at him and let out an exhale. She had gotten so many of those that they were driving her crazy, but for once, she accepted it. Just by hearing those two words from him and looking at him through hooded eyes, she knew that he honestly, truly meant it. She nodded minutely, and gave him the smallest of smiles to show him her thanks.

 

“Me too.” 

 

The two shared one last look before turning back to the city. They watched as the sun rose over them, starting a new day.


End file.
